Tuesday, 2 November 2010

One poo, to rule them all.

I was in a recovery meeting yesterday, and I got asked to share. The topic was "being grounded." I mused aloud .... what does that even mean? What does being grounded actually mean? And, as it all too often happens in meetings, I answered my own questions in the middle of my share. For me, being grounded is the big fat rock I brought back home from the beach, that sits under my desk so that when I'm working, I put my feet on it to remind me of the beach.

It's walking barefeet outside ... literally, grounding myself to the earth. It's standing on a shoreline and looking out at the horizon, all of the mental stress and cogs in my mind getting a big hit of salt air.

Getting grounded is a primal thing .... to remind myself that I'm just a creature after all, scuttling around the world, doing my best.

After my share I turned to Rocco to see why he had suddenly stopped tearing the place apart .... he was in the middle of doing a poo in his nappy. I whispered, "Mate! Are you doing a poo?" He shook his head, no, like he always does, eyes bulging.

Potty training is a non-event around here. He is old enough to do it, I can tell. He just doesn't want to. Last week I bribed him with a "present" ... some stickers, if he did a poo on the potty. He got excited, ran to the toilet, and shut the door.


And he did .... a steaming pile, on the toilet floor, right next to the potty. I went in and said awwww, mate .... you didn't do it in the potty! He screamed at me that he did, got on the potty, and when he got back up had left the tiniest smidge of poo on the rim of the potty. "SEE!" So, he happily played with his stickers while I cleaned the poo.

Yesterday, I had left his nappies in the car and had to race to get Max so I buckled him in.

I thought it was just a little poo, and could wait five minutes.

I was wrong.

I parked the car, and proceeded to change his nappy. Max quickly got out of the car - wise move.

I had so much to do, errands and work and more work and appointments, all in the one day. I was already manic, in my head.

It was a sticky poo - you know those ten-wipers? Yeah. There had been a blowout .... there was poo on his carseat, at the back of his shorts, on his t-shirt. I stripped all of his clothes off, and there was poo all over him. All over my jeans. I looked down - on the car console, the keys, even my new hairclip had poo on it. The stench was really bad, but I don't even bat an eyelid anymore, just clean up the poo. I'm used to it. It's my job .... poocleaner.

Max stood outside in the rain, gagging and looking in. It was a poo comedy. The car was a mess. Suddenly I had this thought pop into my head:

"You are exactly where God wants you to be."

Maybe I was. Maybe, getting grounded for me in that moment was a poo blowout in the main street of town. I started laughing, and Rocco laughed with me, my little poomaker.


  1. Well, I never thought of poo as grounding. Who would have thought?

    If I had that thought in the middle of a poo storm, I would have been like 1. Um, God, what did I do to you? and 2. Seriously? This is my calling? I want a re-evaluation!

    You're a better woman than I am. :)

  2. Eden, I totally saw your twin in Nebraska, USA...it was amazing she looked EXACTLY like you...I wanted to take a pic with my phone..LOL...but I think she would of thought I was nuts...

  3. something hilarious about standing barefoot at the edge of the sea breathing salt air into your soul, in one instant, and inhaling the stench of car soaked poo in the next. love this.

  4. Except that I wish god had not invented poo

  5. I always learn so much from your posts. Cleaning up poo is NOT glamorous in the least, but it sure does make you grounded. How can it NOT?! Love you SO much!

  6. Rocco is funny. But he is never allowed to talk to Finley. The potty training is going good over here and my thankfulness at not wiping a poopy bum keeps me grounded.

  7. Wow. Some days I think there is no way I could do any of that. But I'm seriously laughing over the poo on the floor next to the toilet.

  8. Oh, Eddie. The horror. I know it well; it's so fresh in my mind (see below). We just finished potty training here ... I waited until after Dylan turned three (I don't like to mess around and waiting until they are three has worked out well -- as well as potty training ever can).

    "He shook his head, no, like he always does, eyes bulging."

    This description made me laugh out loud. The recognition.

    "It was a sticky poo - you know those ten-wipers? Yeah. There had been a blowout .... there was poo on his carseat, at the back of his shorts, on his t-shirt."

    Oh. The. Ten. Wipers. Yes. I do not miss them. So imagine my horror last night. The night after trick or treat when my husband dragged Dylan from the top of the sub to the bottom for trick or treat without taking a stroller to give his little legs a rest (for some reason, Mike fights me over the fact (?) that a two year old can't walk as far as an adult male ... as though 'sucking it up' is something a 3 year old should do on a long hike ... to Dylan's credit, his lust for candy out ranked his fatigue and carried him through). Anyway ... Monday night he was a tired wreck. We went out to pick up Mike's newly altered suits for his business trip this week. When we got home (late), Dylan announced that he had poo in his underwear. He'd been napping in the car and -- although he hasn't had a single accident in weeks -- I think he was just so exhausted this night that ... whoops. I didn't realize he meant that he full on went in his pants and I sat him on the toilet, which only made the mess worse. As you describe, it was a ten wiper. O. M. G.

    This is our second accident that was like a graphic crime scene with poo instead of blood. I think I already told you. The last time it happened, I was literally in the middle of rolling stuffed cabbage. Yea. Food prep + cleaning poop. Yum.

    I would seriously do labor/c-section twice if I could skip potty training.

    I guess it does keep you grounded/humble. But frankly, I could use a little pedestal right about now. I think I'm humble enough now that it would take a lot, really a lot to ruin me. ;)

    Ug. Poo in the car seat. I've done vomit, but not poo. Carseats are the worst because it takes tools to remove the uphostery and I

    A) never have time for that production


    B) am always worried that after I remove the one hundred screws, I'll never get it back together properly.


  9. i love this post. Maybe cleaning poo really is where we are supposed to be at that moment.

    FYI: Potty training.
    Keep a potty around the house and let him run around naked for a bit and get used to it.

    But if he's not ready, dont force it.
    S was way more ready than N and I didnt push her at all. But when she was ready, she let us know.

  10. Oh I love this. This post is actually NOTHING about poo. It's about a moment of clarity. I've only had a few in my lifetime but it happens just the way you describe it. I just usually happen to be sitting in a yoga class rather than wiping a baby's bum ;)

  11. Nothing, NOTHING is more grounding that a Code Brown.


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...